


Starry Struggles

by ghostpaws00



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Food Sharing, Gen, Light Angst, Mentions or in later chapters, More characters to be added, My First Fanfic, Oh uh and kissing i guess?, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Milky Way Wishes, Small panic attacks, Super Star/Super Star Ultra Timeline, What am I doing, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-10 12:15:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostpaws00/pseuds/ghostpaws00
Summary: “Hey, hey, hey!Can you make peace between the Sun and Moon?”+×+×+×+×+“I got the Sun and Moon to fight, and I got you into space…It was all according to my perfect, little plan!”×+×+×+×+×After crashing into the Nova, Marx drifts among the remains.





	1. Troubled Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> _"Amidst the pain, you're not alone,  
>  Though you can't see through the haze..._"

    Marx floated in the vastness of space; among the stars, planets, and rubble of the aftermath.

    He hadn’t known how long he was out here. All he recollected were moments after crashing into the Nova that had granted him these powers… which now he thought about, surprised him somewhat; becoming a galactic, power-hungry maniac boss had its benefits. For example, not perishing from lack of oxygen, from the explosion, from the battle with Kirby-

    ...from the battle with _Kirby_.

 

    His head jumbled and rushed with short bursts of memories containing the pink puffball, jumping from phrases of, “ _Hey, hey, hey_ ,” to “ _Thanks to you, I can cause all the mischief I want!_ ”

    Sounds of distorted cackling, to feeling overwhelming power, and the sight of a pink face being confused, betrayed, upset, and… And-

 

    He stared up into the depths of twinkling lights, not daring to move a single muscle or twitch of a wing. He didn't know how long he had remained in that position. For all he'd care, a couple minutes, or maybe hours, _years_ , had passed by.

    Or perhaps all at once within a single time frame of a second.

 

    But all that mattered was the plan, of what he’d gained, of how _close_ he was to his goal of conquering Popstar; the thrill, the _excitement_ , his _galactic ambition--_

 

    --yet it all crashed down on him with the single interference of its guardian, Kirby.

    He'd laugh, and he probably did, and would continue until he'd run out of breath and attempt to test out the limits of his newfound abilities, but the aftereffects of combat troubled him with soreness and an ever-increasing migraine.

 

    The steady slowness of fatigue blocked the corners of his vision with darkness, which went unnoticed from the emptiness of space, causing him to drift into the limbo of nauseating restlessness.

    The numbing yet deafening pain pulsed throughout his body; he felt himself being detached from his reality- many realities, yet still intact on this plane of existence.

    He felt himself grow pale of this cycle, wanting to move away, to _do_ something, _anything_ , yet his energy to do so was zapped out of him.

    He felt very hot to the touch, yet very cold to his core; the sweat that clinged like armor to his skin and the small warmth of his trademark red-blue jester hat did very little to help.

 

    Still, his eyes traveled to the looming vibrant yellow star; its Sun and Moon contently orbiting the planet, peacefully securing the days and nights that were soon to come; ensuring the safety of its inhabitants and-

    The shining dots twirled and sparkled, seemingly dancing with laughter as an invitation to explore their worlds, but all Marx could do was pass out in the midst of nowhere, a sad smile plastered on his face.

 

+×+×+×+×+×+×+

 

    Kirby stood near the fountain of dreams, watching as the star rod shot a beacon of light out towards the night sky, gradually increasing in thickness and size.

    He felt the blinding flash envelop him, laying out the past events before him.

     _The jester seemed so carefree and happy, seeking out the hero of Dreamland to stop the chaos that interfered with the daily routines of many. Bouncing and balancing on his ball with ease, he guided Kirby through the steps of resolving the conflict with the power of wishes from Nova._

 

~~~~

 

    Maybe Kirby should of foreseen this, with the recent happenings of King Dedede stealing the foodstocks, Dyna Blade in an outrage for fear of her chicks’ well-beings, and as result, killing most of the crops throughout Dreamland, and Meta Knight’s annoyance at the lazy lifestyle, causing him to attempt to take matters in his own hands.

    Kirby didn't mind at all, it only meant spending time with the ones he cared about, and soon after the conflict was over and dealt with, he'd come over and have a celebration of strawberry cheesecakes (mostly for himself) and forgive them. He'd have to admit, it was amusing seeing their expressions contort into ones that varied with each personality and lifestyle, but most of them had fun when he did.

 

~~~~

 

    The jester’s true colors shocked him momentarily. Just when he would speak out to say his wish for peace, Marx slammed into him, abruptly shouting about what he wanted.

    Kirby was hurt, both physically and emotionally- although that kick created a small bruise that would last for about a week, but Kirby could understand that maybe, just maybe, that Marx did it for the greater good. Don't get him wrong, Meta Knight chided him for an hour about how there would be others similar to Marx that had evil intentions to use him easily- but Kirby preferred to believe in the best of everyone.

 

    Yeah, maybe it would kill him someday, but he would try, and try, and try again, and again, and again- solely for the purpose of showing the world that, _yes_ , there is good inside each and every one of us. It was only a matter of time and patience to reveal that love that was hidden away from the world.

 

~~~~

 

    Even if Marx had his wish granted and had an ulterior motive of conquering planets, Kirby just knew that it was for something bigger, grander, yet better than before..! Maybe not in those exact words, but someone that would be a great friend to others!

    So when Kirby gazed into Marx’s eyes after being kicked aside, he showed him empathy, _love_ , pity… He wanted to give him a hug and tell him that things would be okay- that everything would settle down and they could have a strawberry cheesecake festival; that Marx didn't have to keep up this act and they could go back home together and rest.

 

    Kirby saw conflict in his eyes for a quick millisecond before the adrenaline of power consumed him, which caused him to shoot off towards Popstar, leaving only but the distant laughter and the wish granter’s trail of light.

 

    To say that Kirby was sad was an understatement. He didn't want to fight him, he didn't want to fight a _friend_ , somebody that he thought he might enjoy being around, but he didn't want his home to be destroyed.

    With a troubled heart, Kirby set out to cease the Nova, and soon after, Marx.

 

~~~~

  
    As resolve settled into the depths of ocean blue eyes, the fountain’s beam of light compressed itself into an orb that withheld the warmth of the warp star; playfully bobbing in midair with newfound purpose. The pink puffball hopped on with a small “ _poyo_ ,” and sailed off into the depths of the inky black night, determined.

 

×+×+×+×+×+×+×


	2. Dancing Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You left us at the edge of the galaxy to be forgotten, then went along your merry way, probably living somewhere pretty and peaceful!"_
> 
> +×+×+×+×+×+×+
> 
> The obnoxious darkness.  
> The emptiness- _the void._  
>  The ever increasing shadow that loomed on and on and stretched and consumed all the small lights of life in the distance and it was coming after him-
> 
> Marx awakes in an unfamiliar, yet accustomed, white cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"How come I see you and ache instead?"_

   The next time Marx awoke, he found himself in an unfamiliar, yet accustomed, small white cottage. Glancing around the blue and yellow starred decorated blanket that obscured parts of his vision, he saw a small pink puffball snoozing peacefully next to him, with small stubs wrapped around him ( _to which he shortly noted his wings were missing_ ).  
    Marx felt shocked, to be _in his home_ and _with_ _him_ , no less. He entertained the thought that perhaps Kirby’s memory scrambled from the space dust and confused him with someone else.  
    “ _Denial, denial,”_ his inner voice sang. “ _He felt bad for a poor, misguided soul like you~”_

 

_...Obviously, that was only wishful thinking._

    Still, he wanted to get away. He couldn’t stand being next to someone this _forgiving_ , or kind, or friendly, or.. or anything that was as gullible as Kirby.   
    Slowly, he wiggled inch by inch out of his grip. _Of course he could have teleported_ , but a hidden obstacle clouded his mind, rendering him unable to do so.

    Holding his breath, he observed as the pink ball only turned and mumbled, yet didn’t stir awake. Carefully shifting his weight and sliding his shoes out from under him, he slipped off the mattress and creeped silently towards the door- or at least, he attempted to before plopping headfirst into the wooden floor, which sent waves of excruciatingly intense pain to pulse throughout his body.

 

    Before his mind could catch up with the rest of him, he unconsciously let out a distressing shriek, quivering and shaking against the _ice-cold_ wooden planks. His vision grew foggy and everything around him was reduced to a blur; the white walls swirled and spun, melding objects and his surroundings together. He clenched his eyes shut in small hopes of lessening the sinking nausea, but it only disoriented his world further.

    His body felt like a small stream desperately trying to survive inside of a huge block of ice, except it was blood that burned and boiled abnormally inside of a never-melting ice prison-- causing and leaking into bruises that refused to heal due to the endless regeneration of a frozen-over hell.

    And oh god, the obnoxious darkness. The emptiness- the _void_. The ever increasing shadow that loomed on and on and stretched and consumed all the small lights of life in the distance and- where are his wings; he couldn't fly, he was stuck in wherever the universe had planted him in and the dark creature was almost here to take him and

 

    He felt a warm color, no, _saw_ pink fill his vision as his skin absorbed the welcoming contact. A pink sphere that was similar in his size trapped him in a death-gripped hug, well- at the best that Kirby could manage to, as two long stems happened to protrude from his back from some unknown minutes ago, causing it to be difficult.

    His surroundings halted their bleary rotations, and focus came back into his sight as he blinked away small tears that had gathered in his eyes. He let himself lean into Kirby while the puffball patted and reassured him with small whispers and “ _poyos_ ”. A few moments passed as Marx steadied his breathing and beating heart, his wings shimmering away for dismissal. He still had a headache, although it was bearable.

 

+×+×+×+×+×+×+

 

    Kirby attempted to steady his friend, but Marx pushed away his help, hopping a small distance away towards the door. A sudden, tense atmosphere washed over the room as small bitterness welled up in the jester’s eyes.

    He shivered, yet it wasn't from the cold. His feelings bubbled and mixed, swirling from the confusion, timespan, and situation. His expression darkened as the distant beat pounded in his head over his contemplation.

 

    He peered over at Kirby, who looked worriedly _at_ him; _for_ him. Marx quickly shook his head, disliking the affection that he gave, then mustered up the most gruesome face he could: baring his teeth as his tongue swung out, his wings popping out automatically, as if a part of the action- shimmering and stretching in intimidation. He floated upwards and hovered near the hero's face, looming threateningly.

    Kirby recoiled, taking a step back. Marx's eyes narrowed then grew, wanting to laugh. He cackled maniacally at the puffball’s reaction, a bottomless pit in the depths of his heart increasing.

    “ _Of course, of course,_ ” his doubts grew. “ _Why’d I expect that this would be any different?_ ”

 

    “That’s.. That's not true!”

    Marx flinched, not realizing that he had spoken his thoughts aloud, quickly recovered and refocused. He gave a lopsided toothy grin and asked, “Oh? What's not true?”

    Kirby puffed out his cheeks. “It's not true that I'm afraid of you! In fact, I wanted to make sure that you were okay, poyo.”

    He gave a small frown, but smiled. “Ah, ah, I see,” he turned away from him, the tiles of his wings radiating and reflecting its colors onto the room. He heard a small squeak of relief from the other. “You planned to gain my trust after my recovery, then, when my guard is at its weakest,” he turned around at an alarming speed and grinned, “Strike me down and kill me, for good.”

    Kirby jumped a bit, but remained with a sad expression. He smiled woefully and replied, “No, that's not it at all… Knowing that you were out there, floating all alone in space, I thought that,” his eyes sparkled. “You could use some friends.”


	3. Sparkling Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Friends,” he said again, to which Kirby nodded. “..Friends,” he slowly drifted to the ground, plopping on his feet, but didn't meet the other's gaze._
> 
> _"In what context does it pop out to you that I need friends?"_
> 
> +×+×+×+×+×+×+
> 
> In which Marx really needs sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " _You seem to replace your brain with your heart,  
>  You take things so hard, and then you fall apart._"

“ _ I thought that… You could use some friends, poyo! _ ”

 

    Marx could only stare in disbelief as Kirby said that. “ _ Friends, _ ” he repeated.

    “Yeah, friends,” the puffball chirped. “What other reason would it be that you wanted those powers, poyo, if not to make friends?”

    “Friends,” he said again, to which Kirby nodded. “ _..Friends _ ,” he slowly drifted to the ground, plopping on his feet, but didn't meet the other's gaze. Kirby looked a bit confused at his recitation, but nodded anyways.

 

    “Kirby, did you already forget what I've wished for?”

 

    The pink sphere watched as the tiled wings’ colors reflected and shone to those of dimmed, somber colors. He observed as Marx’s pupils slitted to ones that were identical to those of a cat’s, revealing his glazed over purple irises. He gave a distant, empty grin to Kirby, yet not directly. “No,” the puffball answered.

    “Tell me, then.”

    “That you.., poyo, you wanted to conquer Popstar,” Kirby responded, feeling the crawling sensations climbing up his feet.

    “ **Exactly** ,” the jester yelled. “In what  _ context _ does it pop out to you that I need  _ friends _ ? Have you gone deaf,” he arched the tips of his golden heart-shaped wings towards the home's inhabitant. “Or are you just dumb?”

 

    Kirby looked at him, finding the weight of his words not matching up with his weary, teary-eyed expression. He put each of his nubs over both wings and rubbed soothingly. “I might not be smart, poyo,” he stared into the red and blue heterochromia accents hidden deep within the purples of his eyes. “But why else would you want to rule  _ only _ Popstar? With you being a jester and having great amounts of power, poyo, you'd have lots of people here to admire you, especially since you're from Popstar, too!”

    He heard Marx huff then giggle tiredly at his explanation. “It's called  _ ‘playing the part’ _ .” The grape sighed as his wings poofed away. “Why are you like this?”

    “Huh? Like what?”

    Marx gestured at the puffball with his head. “Like you. Why are you so..,” he huffed, attempting to find the best word. “So caring. So Kirby?”

    “Ah, poyo,” Kirby pondered. “Because.. Kirby is Kirby, poyo!” He gave a childish smile.

    “Of course,” he airly sang, “What else would I expect?”

    “Anything that Kirby can do, poy-  _ ah _ , Marx?!”

 

    For about the third time in the day, Marx found himself collapsing from fatigue and dulling pain. But now, he felt lucky that he fell in the safety of someone he could call a friend.

 

×+×+×+×+×+×+×

 

    “Nngh…,” he yawned and slowly fluttered his eyes open. Marx, yet again, found himself wrapped in the starry blue blanket on Kirby’s bed, albeit the said-puffball missing. As the lazy afternoon rays beamed through the window, he couldn't help but to panic from the emptiness of the home.  _ “Was that all a fever dream or was that...” _

    After calling out a few times for the pink puffball, he couldn't help but to doubt his memory, thinking that it was all an illusion, and that he was still out there,  **alone** , in space, hopelessly imagining this false reality.

    He trembled, then started to laugh, tears springing forth from his eyes. “Of course it was just a  _ dream _ ! I mean,” he wheezed, “Why would the  _ hero _ of Popstar want to  _ help me _ out of everyone else  _ here _ ?”

 

    He buried his face into the fabric, failing to notice the note that had floated gently off of his hat and onto the blueness of the blanket. He sniffed the scent of the soft layer, nuzzling his face deeper as he breathed it in. A small crinkling noise could be heard, but he ignored it in favor of blathering over it.

    “I was such a fool to fall for some trick like this!  _ Me _ , wanting some friends or someone to help me or, or… Or whatever this hellish afterlife wants me to realize.”

    A distant humming could be heard from the window, yet he continued to wail.

    “I mean, hey, heY, HEY! Stupid Marx,” he practically screeched, slightly muffled from continually burying himself into the starry cloth. “Why can't I go on my merry way and forget all this guilt?! Kyahaha!”

 

    The steps sounded closer, but hesitant, towards the small, dome house.

 

~~~~

 

    Kirby had to run out of his house due to a few villagers wanting him to do a couple errands. He was worried about leaving Marx alone for most of the day, and he had yet to tell the others about taking care of him, but... Marx would be fine!

    ...Right?

    The jester was, for the most part, okay, aside from a few trances, small panic attacks, and possibly wanting to run far away as a result from the Wish incident, but Kirby thought that he could take care of himself for a few hours.

 

    He took some time to draw and scribble on a piece of construction paper with crayons-  _ while also dumping a whole lot of glitter _ , writing a letter to the best of his ability.

    After taking care to fold the note into a small fourth, he placed it on top of the fluffy hat of his sleeping guest, and quickly cleaned up the area ( _ by inhaling the leftover mediums for later use! _ ). After the floor had seemingly no trace of evidence that he used the space, Kirby rushed out, not wanting to gain any concerns or worries from being a second late.

 

~~~~

 

    The small, wooden door slowly creaked open; metal sounding  _ clanks  _ of footsteps resounding throughout the room. Yellow eyes illuminated keenly from the visor’s darkness, swiftly scanning the compact area.

    On the bed that was covered with an obnoxious amount of glitter, apparently spilled from an opened, colorful note that was packed full of the source, he distinguished a round form underneath the messy covers; a small, fluffy white ball peeking from the edges of the sparkling blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a.k.a how do I do this-


	4. Staggering Shimmers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _He was similar to Kirby, he could do most of the abilities that the other could, he even battled him a couple of times- he was practically like a mentor to him; so why..?  
> _ Why couldn't he, himself, do the same?"
> 
> -aka Meta Knight sinks deeper into his own self-inflicted chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every chapter, the author strays further away and away from the characters' personalities.
> 
> ;')

    It's been a couple of days since the day ( _ or perhaps, night? _ ) that the Sun and Moon had fought over their positions of the time of day. The people of Popstar had been exhausted since then, attempting to reset their sleeping schedules back up to date, although Meta Knight would’ve preferred that they'd- well, at least Dreamland, would take this opportunity to be somewhat more active to create more reinforcements, defences, and whatnot in case of another dangerous enemy.

 

    Meta Knight lurked around the altering, flickering shadows of buildings and trees during that time- when Kirby setted off to restore daily life on Popstar; he caught some words here and there from gossiping groups, curious of the current situation, formulating a theory about whoever infuriated the two celestial bodies was someone messed up in the head; soon saying cruel, nasty words about the rumored being.

    To the extent that the blue knight could hear, he heard mentions of his own name being tossed around and ready to blame, since a few were still on edge from his attempt to takeover Dreamland that occurred a couple weeks back. Small waves of guilt riled up inside of him as he tried to squeeze himself further into the bark of the tree he was spying in, a futile endeavor at disappearing- and at swallowing down his shame.

    As he took a brief hesitance at wrapping and willing his dimensional cape to warp somewhere, far away from this town, he overheard a young voice jeering at the small community of their assumptions of the said-knight.

    He never glanced back to see who it was as the voice went on to make points about how courteous the knight was compared to the evil person who was brewing up the storm of trouble, exclaiming what terrible motives this rumored being might have while Meta had good intentions for his actions, which flustered the spying knight to teleport away. Although he hadn't expressed his gratitude towards the mysterious being that defended his name from the rumors, he hoped to see them and thank them properly someday.

 

~~~~

 

    The blue knight watched as the Waddle Dees scurried around frantically in the castle, observing as they sharpened their spears and hauled various supplies that consisted of foods, machinery, small tools and weapons towards the workshops, throne room, and other places. Another group of Dees walked by, wearing iconic yellow hard helmets while wielding random wrenches, hammers, and toolboxes; constantly refurbishing and altering the layout of the castle, and occasionally peeking at a blueprint an accompanying Waddle Doo held in front of them.

    In the background, Meta Knight could hear the King yelling and grunting about orders and preparations, an endless soft marching booming in the throne room that often followed with short inbetweens of a long, continuous monologue that, if nobody had sporadically interrupted for help of the plans, the Knight was convinced that he would have spoken thousands of pages worthy of a thick novel about Kirby.

 

    Meta Knight sighed. Ever since word reached King Dedede about the small pink puffball going off yet again to save the planet from imminent doom, the penguin stormed off in a fit of rage, closing his castle doors and holing up in either his throne room or one of the armory rooms.

    Whenever he went into the armory room, he'd go for hours, or even days, behind weary cold doors, only letting in a few to hand him plans, food, updates, or whichever reason that he'd deemed good. Drilling and heated clanks could be heard echoing throughout the halls. The majority of the castle panicked, worrying about his majesty’s health or what move to take next or such- as although the ones that were trusted most were shown and told what the King wanted and did, reported back to the rest vaguely, yet enough to keep and hold their everlasting trust and faith.

 

~~~~

 

    That made the Knight wonder about Kirby. How could that pink puff keep his word about secrets and yet put his belief in everyone he meets? How could he fight back against someone with malicious actions and yet come back for them? How can he forgive so easily? Why…

    Why could Kirby do countless amazing accomplishments, fight endless amounts of enemies, and yet turn around with a heartfelt smile and hugs? Why could he care and worry about people who almost ended the world?

 

_ Why couldn't he, himself, do the same? _

 

    He was similar to Kirby, he could do most of the abilities that the other could, he even battled him a couple of times- he was practically like a mentor to him; so why..?

 

    Looking around himself and rechecking that nobody needed him, he readied his wings and took to the skies, deciding to give the puffball a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " _We're going around in circles,  
>  Speak up and break the silence._"


	5. Melding Oranges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh? What a surprise,” Marx mocked._
> 
> _“Now I see why Kirby went back for you,” Meta Knight started._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> -Marx and Meta Knight meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [thank you to everyone who've stuck with this story so far~]

   “Kirby,” a mellow voice questioned as a gloved hand slowly reached out and prodded at the round lump of fabric. The structure felt strange and unnatural, Meta Knight observed, as if the body structure underneath the folds was a..

    Quickly lifting up the creases of the blanket, which sent the note overly stuffed with glitter sparkling across the room, the knight discovered a beach ball tucked with a red and blue jester hat decorated with geometric shapes.

 

    Meta Knight obtained the headwear, carefully examining the details of the two objects in the room, brushing up upon his knowledge of Kirby's copy abilities and the report of the Milkyway incident.

    Although the jester hat was eerily similar to those of Kirby’s Beam and, especially, Mirror copy-abilities, the lining and shapes that decorated the headgear was different- as well as the ball that seemed to accompany the said accessory and matched the perpetrator’s items from the description of the report.

Meta Knight gazed at the objects, getting increasingly paranoid each breathing second. _“If he somehow survived or managed to get back down towards Popstar,”_ he skimmed the room tensely, _“and if he did something to Kirby…”_

 

    As the glitter twirled and reflected their tiny lights onto the surfaces of the abode, a smoky black pit near the knight's feet caught the visitor's attention, as no trace of the small lights was to be evince upon the strange shadow.

    Reflexively springing back just as an accelerating gust of an entity bounded upwards encased in blinding static light, the knight offhandedly released the hat from his grip, in favor of using his arms to shield his sight. As the flash died down, he readied his hand near the hilt of his sword, in preparation of an unforeseen fight.

 

    True to his assumptions, there floated the Popstar’s perpetrator in Kirby's home, who adjusted back on his jester hat using his winged paws. The ambusher smirked playfully as the knight glared- his illuminated yellow eyes shining intensely; boring his sharp gaze into the other's slitted irises.

 

    The jester grinned maliciously, hovering threateningly (to the most that he could without bumping or flattening his hat against the ceiling). His wings’ shards reflected off a depressing tone of dark reds as he cackled out his greeting.

    “Oh? What a surprise,” Marx mocked, his eyes gleaming in a sort of recognition. “Has the infamous traitorous knight come here to off me by the request of the pink hero?”

 

    “ _Traitorous.._ ,” Meta Knight muttered the word to himself, an invisible knife stabbing him in the heart.

_He.. wasn't, ...was he?_

 

    A small golden warmth chimed in comfort, wrapping him in reassurance, clearing his doubts. The fresh recalling of someone's muffled screaming as he walked closer to the familiar dome-shaped home and the glitter-filled note came to mind as he prepared to answer.

 

    “..No,” he finally replied in an oddly calm voice, observing as a fraction of Marx’s expression contorted in confusion. He removed his hand from Galaxia’s hilt, steeling himself before continuing. “I wasn't sent here by demand or from a request, but rather, I came here to check upon Kirby from my own accordance.”

    The jester’s eyes seemingly swam with clouded emotions, his wings slightly withdrawing before forcing out a grin, causing the appendages to jut back out as they raced with heavy green and blue tones of colors. “ _Kyahaha, of course I should've.._ ,” Marx mulled to the side, suddenly lost in thought, to which the knight found strange, yet took the advantage.

    “But of course, I can only assume that I've startled you and as such, I apologize.” Marx sharply turned his head to look at him, shocked out of his thoughts, but the blue knight continued. “I’m also sorry for intruding without further notice and I would like to accompany you in an act of pardon.”

 

    Whether or not it was a convenient mistake or a clever little set-up from Kirby, Marx didn't know, yet he doubted the former idea. He would've taken a more thought-out route if not for his surprise, to which the immediate answer that he blurted out was, “Are you insane?”

    Meta Knight watched in slight amusement and concern as Marx chattered to himself frantically, mumbling incoherently as his thoughts raced; mostly berating himself for the instantaneous reply.

    “I mean,” he caught his breath, a small sly smile returning to his face, “Wouldn't it be better to end me for your dignity as an honorable knight? That way, you could return to being a loved, famed, loyal knight of all of Dreamland. Popstar, even!” Marx flew closely to the blue puffball and gave a terrifying expression. “Wouldn't you take this chance to actually serve yourself useful for once?”

    Marx had to make him mad, he had to aggravate him in some way or form so that he could hate him. So when the blue knight stared at him with hard, hurt eyes with nothing but silence in his speech, he interpreted it as a step forward. Perhaps even as a win.

 

But then,

 

    “Now I see why Kirby went back for you,” Meta Knight started, to which Marx screeched internally.

     _The wrong step forward_.

    “In any case that Kirby wants to help out a friend in need, I will attempt to oblige and aid- so don't fret to call out if you need assistance or a companion to talk to, as I am nearly available most days.”

 

    “ _and with this reputation…_ ,” but it went unspoken. Meta Knight had nearly nothing to lose.

 

    “..You and Kirby,” Marx finally said after a long pause, plopping onto the wooden floorboards with a squeak while his wings withdrew and magically disappeared on his backside; reverting back to his original form. “I'll never understand how you weirdos around here take chances to befriend a threat.”

 

    “If it puts your mind at ease, we do our best to place things back as peacefully as we can,” Meta Knight replies.

    The purple jester walked to the bed to retrieve his ball, skillfully using his feet to easily guide the ball off. “ _Peacefully_? You're mistaken,” Marx nudged his beach ball over to a random area of the room and sat upon it. “I'm as sure as the explosion that almost blew me up that Kirby hurled me against the Nova to violently end me.”

    “..I'm sure that it was for a good reason, but not with the intent to kill,” the knight replied as Marx shot him a glare. “You were too absorbed in that power that you lost control of yourself, only coming to as that power was released dangerously near the end. Correct?”

 

    “Hmph,” Marx huffed, not wanting to admit it. “You're only defending Kirby because you're probably an off-color or related to him,” he joked.

    The blue puffball flinched, not knowing how to respond. He glanced at the jester out of the peripheral of his visor, who stared at him somewhat expectantly. Meta Knight decided quickly, and forced out a chuckle. Marx didn't seem to catch his small hesitation and showed a small smile.

 

  
~~~~

 

    “Have you read the note?”

    “Huh,” Marx laid upside down on top of his trademark ball. “What note?”

    “The glittery folded note that was left on top of the bed,” Meta Knight elaborated as he picked up the discarded object off of the ground, carefully opening the edges to avoid the craft from gathering on his gloves or from seeping into his armor.

    Unfortunately, a giant pile of golden glitter fell from the letter and engulfed him; the said paper innocently floating away from his hands as Marx snickered at the scene. As a low exasperated moan sounded from the trapped victim, the jester slid the letter to himself using his feet.

 

 _Dear Marx_ ,

     _Sorry about leaving you alone at home, poyo. I had to go to the village this morning to help them with foods. I'll be back later so don't worry! If you feel lonely find Meta or Dedede, they're good friends- maybe Dyna and her chicks if theyre not here . I hope you feel better and breathe!_

_~Kirby_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Someone told me long ago,  
>  There's a calm before the storm..."_


	6. Cold Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Marx glared daggers into the struggling knight’s side, who only turned to look at him owlishly... Marx could relieve his invasion of rising emotions..."_
> 
> _"Why couldn't everyone get along and stop hiding from each other?"_
> 
> ×+×+×+×+×+×+×
> 
> A new plan begins as a rivalry starts to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"'Cause I can't stand it, no I can't"_

    Marx read, reread, and skimmed the note countless times, unnaturally silent as he could be- with an occasional word mumble, while flooding with worry. Glancing back at the dying, orange light that restlessly wavered across the starry blue bed, stretching thinly and beyond onto the glimmering pile of shiny craft that dared to glare into his eyes, he wondered about - ~~_ how long Kirby would be gone _ ~~ \- how much more he has to put up with.   
    Surely, betrayal is really nothing much that should weigh you down, if,  _ at all _ (technically depending on the way that you looked at it,  _ it shouldn’t. _ ), but  _ being _ betrayed is another story that the jester had always thought to be no big deal, yet..

  
    That was only reserved for him,  _ Marx _ , to betray others.

 

    He’d like to think that the rage of emotions bubbling up and outwards on people’s faces as he played around, juggling their hearts of hurting feelings, was amusing. He was used to having insults and heated words that held false, empty meanings thrown at him; having grown and built apathy to anything and anyone that didn’t concern him, or involved little to none in his life.

 

    So to say that he was worried for someone, _ for once in a long while _ , was an understatement. Especially since the jester hadn’t interacted with someone like Kirby, who, while vulnerable personality-wise, his reputation had barely anything negative to be said about- towns’ folks occasionally saying of how no nightmares reap the land, or how happy they are to have no thundering troubles crash down upon them--   
    No, not that the reputation mattered, but what concerned him the most was not that of his heroic deeds, but rather, his act of promising to help him recover, and hold effectiveness on others’ lives, despite what misfortunes might come overtime.   
  
    And as seeing that the knight who oddly resembled that of Kirby’s structure, currently attempting to work his way out of the trap that the pink puff had undeniably set up, wanted to see said-hero for whatever troubles he had regardless of the incident a week back, struck Marx with a chord of jealousy and immerse sadness.   
_ “Did Kirby set me up with a lie to take advantage of my weakened state?” _

 

    A tidal wave of feelings rushed in and swallowed him- troubling, misunderstood thoughts bombarding the jester as he looked on in envy of Meta Knight. Marx glared daggers into the struggling knight’s side, who only turned to look at him owlishly with a sudden menacing underlying tone that didn't seem to flicker away.

    He flinched; the illusion as if a trick of light that caught him off guard, if only for a split second, immediately dispersed, replaced with the sight of the honorable knight's continuation of sluggishly moving out of the pile. Marx wanted to laugh, if only to calm his nerves, but the thickness of the overwhelming apparition left him grinning too wide and slim- the canines left to poke out awkwardly as the weakened, yet recovering jokester was left to a small spark of an effective mind-twisting plan.

 

    A momentary shock that had led him to his revolutionary revolting idea to manipulate this ideal self-sacrificing honorary fool of a knight to a satisfying bloody end.

    The people held grudges over Meta Knight, after all, and would gladly have respite over a disappearance or a mangled swish-kabobbed corpse- either result would gratify.

    And as an addition, Marx could relieve his invasion of rising emotions by using another facade of sorts and consulting him to rid of this agonizing fret overthrowing his thoughts.

 

_ “Like two birds with one stone _ , _ ” _ he thought, darkly.  _ “They'll tumble over, one after the other.” _

 

    And as thus, the jester slowly hatched out his small scheme.

 

~~~~

 

    Kirby would have to apologize to Marx after this unanticipated adventure. As the night bore on, the humid tension rising heavily after each battle- heaving and pulling tightly on his skin as the lights loomed ominously with faded conversation in the hallways, the pink puffed hero strode along with cautiousness into the newly designed castle.

 

    He narrowly avoided the small traps of nut-shaped bombs hidden in the ceiling and skillfully dodged the incoming attacks of many servants who were trafficking the halls; seemingly hesitant and unprepared at first, but soon chaotically flocking in with a mesh of wands, spears, and flames.

    Kirby quickly placed them out of commission with a few inhales and star-shaped spits later, but quietly wondered about the meaning of the strangeness of King Dedede’s plans as of tonight as he watched the Twin Fire Lions attempt to slowly crawl away with tear-faced expressions- eventually deciding to burst in a colorful burst of bright blues and yellows; a cyan-like orb rising for a moment before vanishing in a twinkle of a light show’s array.

 

    The fiery manes that licked up and dissipated alongside the movement of the orb reminded him all too well of the Kabula’s steady, burning descend about an hour ago- the hot grey smoke filling up the sky as the metal components that worked the blimp-like machine overheated or couldn't turn as some gears were knocked aside from Kirby’s starship’s beams. The punctured holes swelled as the fabric of the security measure decreased and greyed; heated wicks of a fire visible as the fans stuttered and creaked its inevitable fall- only aiding in proceeding the destruction faster.

    And as the oranges and slightly blackish-blues rose from within itself, Kirby briefly thought about Meta Knight’s battleship’s fall into the orange oceans- plundering and sinking into the depths like an anvil diving into the weightless sky. He thought about how familiar the situation seemed, and yet a bit clueless on what it was about to make it this way.

 

    The fight started differently yet resulted in a similar fashion with differently objects and people.

 

    And back here in the present, where Kirby listened to the echoes and wails of the observations and mullings of King Dedede and Bandana Dee while making his way forward towards the former, he gained a wishing desire to hope that Marx was okay, whether or not he was within the company of the friends that Kirby hoped to personally introduce and hang out with, together.

 

    He didn't want the sinking feeling of dread, confusion, sorrow, and hurt,  _ hurt,  _ **_hurt_ ** - **_hopelessness_ ** \-- Kirby shook his head in an attempt to dislodge those thoughts; he just didn't want the same disastrous settings to keep occurring, to keep resulting in unhappiness and misunderstandings, anger and hate. 

    Why couldn't everyone get along and stop hiding from each other, and go outside, have picnics, and talk? A lot could be solved by communicating and not spreading awful rumors or starting a tangling, confusing mess of problems.

    Yet here was Kirby, dashing and leaping over Chillys, Moto Shotzos, and even a few Roselys. Oh, and the abundant- seemingly infinite amount of Waddle Dees wielding spears, parasols, or swinging around on a strand of decorative, blue beads- surrounded by strong wind currents, endless pits, and floating Gordos.

 

    Yep, just the usual antics.

 

    Kirby bounced softly on the ground after swallowing a star block, immediately inching back towards the wall as a Moto Shotzo drove at a leisurely pace towards him. The pink puff inhaled the enemy and hobbled sluggishly near the edge of where the floor met the bottomless gap. Managing to jump up as much as he could with new weight, he star-spat out the foe, timing it right to align it with the bomb block hidden in the grey, concrete wall- causing the structure to explode.

    The pink puff sighed with relief; he hoped that the final room was coming soon, more so now than ever as he could hear the  _ tip-taps _ of someone running towards him, as well as the echoing of a familiar voice catching their breath and muttering down the hall. The faster that Kirby could tie this up, the quicker that he could get back to Marx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"I'm coming back round again."_


	7. Pastel Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"...We're done for..," The King mumbles, mostly to himself; the everlasting sparks of competitiveness slowly dying out by the second with each defeat. "Only one option." The pengu turns towards his faithful servant, rubbing the back of his neck with a grim face. "...O-ok then," he found himself stuttering. "I guess it's your turn."_   
>  _"B-but, Great King," tears sprung from his eyes. "I can't do it alone!"_   
>  _"...Fine," King Dedede finally says, turning his back to Bandana Dee. "You can go," coldness creeps into his tone. "You've been spared."_   
>  _The waddle dee is shocked by his statement, but quickly recovers. "Don't go, King," he wails._   
>  _"...I'm sorry," Dedede quietly apologizes, his form receding into the darkness._   
>  _"Great King!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"There's a room where the light won't find you.  
>  Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down."_

    “Gr-great King,” Bandana Dee mumbled to himself as he took guard for the remainder of the hallway. “I must do this for Him, I h-have to!” He psyched himself up, turned forward and took a wide stance, puffing out his body- before realizing Kirby had already arrived, waiting and watching his performance. “Kirby,” the waddle dee squeaked in surprise, catching himself by quickly sweeping a foot behind and leaning on it.

    The pink puff had tilted his head at an angle and raised a paw to his mouth in a questioning gesture. “Why do you have to do this?”  
    “I have to,” Bandana Dee adjusted his position and fixed his bandana. “I have to prove that I can do this! For the Great King!”

  
    “That’s not what I meant, poyo,” Kirby took a step forward, eyes creasing in worry. “What is Tri-De up to, Bandany?”

    “I,” Bandana Dee shifted his gaze, his chubby body deflating a bit. “..The Great King’s plans are not to be shared unless said otherwise by the Great King himself!” His demeanor rose into a stern defensive stance and locked his sight on the other.

 

    Kirby frowned. For all he could know in a worst, but unfortunately common, case scenario was that King Dedede had gotten overtaken or possessed by another uncompromising entity while he was gone, or resting and taking care of his friend. But it didn’t seem to be that way in this situation, as the friendly observant banter from a few minutes ago would betray that sense. And with the faithful, loyal Bandana Dee, his eyes didn’t scream desperation of dire urgency, but rather, a flamed point that would penetrate for the familiar will of giving it his all for his friend. His _King_. A point of honor.

     ~~_Almost like Meta’s-_ ~~

 

    The pink puff shook his head, breaking that chain of thought. It wouldn’t end in a downing fate.. would it? “We don’t have to fight,” Kirby suggested. “We don’t have to do this.”  
    “..Sorry, Kirby,” he raised his orange, stubby arms in preparation of an attack. “But everyone here is giving it their all for His Greatness, and I wouldn’t want to be the one who lags behind tonight..!” Bandana charges forward, flailing his arms as he does so in an endeavor to add extra damage.

    A strong pull of air that combines with a sound eerily similar to a vacuum aids in the charging appointed waddle dee’s momentum to an immediate thought of, _“This was a bad course of action.”_ The pink puff inhales and forcibly spits out the attacker, sending Bandana Dee to harshly hit his back on one of the sparkling, pastel tiled steps, and completely drain him of any action-based energy. Kirby winces as the Dee groans from the sudden pain, but neither of them could go forward without the other getting hurt.

 

    The pink puff walks over towards Bandana Dee and, while being cautious to not agitate any other sores or internal injuries, hefts his friend onto his back. Bandana gives a shocked cry as Kirby slowly moves forward with him in tow, carefully kicking explosive boxes, as to not risk sliding and slamming Bandana Dee into a self-repairing wall, as he makes his way through the hall.  
    Eventually, he finds an awaiting maxim tomato sitting innocently behind a previously-bombed wall. Kirby surges forward to grab it to avoid standing around and hazard his companion to a falling brick- but accidently jerks Bandana on a sore spot while doing so, causing him to yelp. The pink puff quickly apologizes on reaction, waiting a minute or two for the Dee’s pain to settle, and gently sets him against the wall.

  
    Bandana Dee blearily looks up at him, watching as Kirby shortly contemplates something with the fruity labeled health item. “Hey,” he says, gaining the attention of the pink puff.

    “Hm, poyo?”

    “What does this…,” he pauses to process the situation. “Does this go against the Great King’s orders?”  
    Kirby quietly laughs at his inquiry, sounding slightly empty. “I don’t know Dedede’s plans, poyo, but,” he gives a small smile. “I think as long as you’re doing your best, Bandany, then you’re not doing anything wrong!”

  
    “Hah,” Bandana Dee puffs out. “Thanks Kirby.” He sighs, glancing at the maxim tomato that Kirby now stuffed in his mouth. “I ought to remember to bring some food for mys- mmph!”   
    The pink puffball had inched closer to his friend and pressed his face against the other suddenly, cutting off Bandana’s sentence. A replenishing burst of energy shoots through his being and efficiently mends his bruises, leaving behind nothing but a light tingling sensation of where injuries once were. Kirby backs away and smiles cheerily as Bandana Dee steadily stands up, rubbing his arms and checking over himself before nodding, embarrassed.

 

    “Thank you again,” he tugs the hem of his blue headwear over the tops of his eyes. “But, oh! What will the Great King say- we were suppose to challenge each other until the other falls down,” worry gushes into his frame. “If he sees me in this state then he might think..”

    A pink paw pats the waddle dee’s shoulder. “Bandana, poyo,” Kirby soothes. “Tri-De wouldn’t think or do less of you! Everyone here knows that you’re _veerry_ loyal, and that you work a lot,” he pauses, bringing two paws up to hide his growing smile. “So much, poyo, that Dedede told me that he thought about giving you a rest for half a year!”   
    “Gahh! I couldn’t do that,” Bandana Dee cries. “His Greatness needs so much assistance and work to be done that I couldn’t possibly--”   
    Kirby giggles at his friend’s fretting, earning an anxious yet hard stare from the other. He calms down his laughter after a few minutes. “See, Bandana, you do your best everyday! I’m sure that if you go in and tell him that I’m coming, poyo, that he’ll know you tried to stop me.”

    “...Okay, I think- no, I _can_ do this,” Bandana Dee steeled himself. The pink puff slid and made contact with the explosive block, causing the object’s wall to vanish in a puff of smoke. The blue-clothed waddle dee ran up ahead, pausing at the edge of the door’s entrance to give one last glance at the King’s nemesis. “Good luck,” he squeaked, and vanished behind the door.

  
    Kirby waved as Bandana Dee stepped through the doorway, counted down a few seconds, and slowly strolled up the steps to the entryway, smile diminishing as he quietly listened to the hasty mumblings. The chopped, worried tones droned in his non-existent ears and were finally followed by a gruff, warm reassurance- a small step, and a high-pitched squeeze. He smiled, but it was quickly chased away by a gnawing reminder.   
     _“Marx,_ ” his subconscious brought up, but Kirby swallowed it back down. Although this abrupt ordeal interrupted Kirby’s earlier plans to go home and take care of his jester friend, taking longer than he’d might have wanted; the chilliness and creeping shadow palette of midnight teasingly evoked the time taken to get to this point- as long as friends could stay friends, _become_ friends, or grow stronger in their friendships, then it was worth the effort of the wait.

 

    Scutterings and a resounding, heavy thud broke the pink puffball out of his thoughts. Kirby regained his composure, and entered the gaping-subdued room awaiting his presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"When they do, I'll be right behind you;  
>  So glad we've almost made it..."_

**Author's Note:**

> A little combinations of thought processes since Star Allies's dlc batch release;
> 
> How would Kirby and Marx interact-- what would their friendship be like ever since the events of Milky Way Wishes?  
> And because of S.A, they've must've talked to each other at one point in time- or at least I imagine so


End file.
